


Rolling in the Deep

by DaggersBloodPain (AyotliKestrel)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon compliant up to Half-Blood Prince, F/M, M/M, Ministry Spy Lucius, Multi, Order Spy Severus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyotliKestrel/pseuds/DaggersBloodPain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dumbledore succumbs to Voldemort's first horcrux in the beginning of sixth year, Harry is left reeling and without the support he'd depended on to get him through his previous near death encounters. Now he is forced to find a new path, one that will lead him into the depths of the ministry and politics as he learns to fight in a new way. A way that could just be the key to keeping his world from devolving into a devastating war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to my Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rolling in the Deep](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/216781) by DaggersBloodPain---This was my old account, so me. 



> I am actually a very old Harry Potter author, but I lost access to the account do to a series of long and difficult issues in my real life, not in the least being some pretty serious physical and mental health issues, they're chronic so I'm still at the mercy of doctors and medicine to keep me more or less functional, but I'll give it a go. 
> 
> The current political and social climate sweeping the news lately brought this story to my attention first, so this is the one I'm starting with. That doesn't mean I'm only going to work on it, but I would like to keep my attention on a handful of stories rather than spread out too thin again. I'm going through some rather heavy editing but a few chapters are already written and will stay the same content wise, I'm just cleaning up style, grammar, and flow.

"Harry where are you going?" Hermione asked worried about her best friend.

"Just going for a walk," The raven haired wizard replied distractedly as he wondered from the common room, normally vibrant green eyes devoid of emotion.

"Be careful," Hermione called after the distracted boy who lived. She was doubtful he heard her speak at all and could hardly blame him, if she had gone through what he had, Hermione didn't doubt she would be in the same or worse shape.

It was a lie. A total and utter lie that lead to this point. One so insidiously crafted it was sixty years in the making. Voldemort could have been stopped. There was a point in time that a powerful charismatic teen had decided to go bad, so deeply bad his name would one day become synonymous with death, and he was allowed to go down that road with little obstruction. Why? Because no one gave a damn. If for just one moment someone had thought to check on the young prodigy during the summers, or let him stay at the school like he had wanted to, there was a chance Tom Riddle might have had second thoughts about everything he did later in life.

The truly horrendous part about the whole thing? That wasn't even the lie that had Harry walking around the castle like a zombie. Voldemort's past just gave the lie a foothold in Harry's life.

No the lie was Harry himself. The Boy-Who-Lived, the savior, and all around hero. That was the lie. Harry was nothing like the world saw him as and his heart bled. The hope and dreams of the wizarding world had been draining on him like a leech since he had reemerged into the world of magic.

Harry didn't want to kill, but he had. Quirrell was dead by his hand. He wasn't even sure if the ashes had ever been swept up, he never checked, not being quite that morbid even in his darkest moments though he had come close a few times lately. 

Harry didn't want to speak with snakes, but he did. He couldn't have saved Ginny without it, but if it weren't for Fawkes he would have died from the Basilisk venom running in his veins resulting from his death match with the King of Serpents. In his mind that battle was a draw, he hadn’t survived so much as cheated; the snake didn’t have a phoenix to cry tears for her. 

Harry didn't want a psychopathic killer after his blood, but he did. The world had the wrong psychopath. A rat ran free to rejoin his master, and a dog was caged in a house holding a million and one horrors from his past. That house couldn’t have been much easier on him than Azkaban. 

Harry didn't want to be a Champion, but he had been. He even won that one according to the record books. The world never saw the tie for what it was, the death toll for a fellow classmate. Harry had heard whispers of Survivor’s guilt in the hospital wing when the lights were low and visitors were gone, the term meant nothing to him, but he knew the feeling deep into the marrow of his bones because of that one simple decision to take the cup together. 

Harry didn't want to create a secret group of child fighters, but he had. Now his Godfather was dead and wasn't coming back. The prophecy haunted his every conscious thought, waking or not, he heard those words repeated in his head, over and over again. The one adult he might have been able to talk to about how scared he was, and how much he just wanted this to be over and done, was dead and he mourned the loss doubly so on those days. 

Now in sixth year everything he knew and loved was being stolen from him, little by little it was all going away. Any innocence that managed to survive the previous years' strife was being stripped away. Hogwarts, the only real home he ever had, now felt like a prison. Every day he spent going to classes, doing homework, and enjoying time with his friends was one more day he wasn't out on the front lines of the war. The front lines where he was supposed to be fighting to uphold the safety and sanity of the magical world.

Harry didn't care. He never wanted to fight, he only ever wanted to live. He didn't want fame and glory, he only wanted friendship. He didn't want his name splattered in newspapers and used as political currency, he just wanted to finish school and build a life for himself. He never wanted people to die in his name, and he sure as Hades didn't want people to kill for him either. He would rather have those people safe, whole, and happy by his side than carry the guilt of their deaths because they died supporting his cause. A cause he had very little to do with beyond being a poster boy. Dumbledore would rather shoot himself in the foot than tell him anything important just in case the 'poor boy' couldn't handle it.

Dumbledore had finally started showing him things. Snippets of Voldemort's life that if the Dark Lord ever found out about Harry would be higher on his ‘to kill’ list than he already was if that was even possible. Now, even that tentative truce was gone, the headmaster was dead. Anything Dumbledore might have been able to tell him to help him win died with the old man. Maybe he really did die rather than let Harry know anything worthwhile? Harry couldn't even rustle up enough gumption to either laugh or cringe at the last thought. He wasn't in control of his tumultuous thoughts, they were forcibly dragging him along for the ride.

That was how he knew Voldemort could have been stopped. The things Dumbledore had shown him were truly horrible. He watched as the powerful, abused, little boy turned to the Dark for comfort and aid when the Light refused him. He saw shadows of himself in a monster he was destined to kill. He had felt resentment and anger at the very same people that created Lord Voldemort out of Tom Riddle.

What if someone had cared?

What if?

It was hard to think about, that what if. Just one word, one voice of kindness, and this could have all been a bad dream. Harry would still have parents, and maybe Tom Riddle would have used his brilliance to improve the magical world, not bring it to its knees. No, this train of thought was too painful. Too much ruined potential to bare thinking on.

Now Harry was left to clean up the mess. Without so much as being asked his opinion he would be sent out to try and kill the insane Dark Lord, all on the word of a batty old Divination professor who only gave two true predictions in her life, both of which brought Harry a little closer to his own personal Hell on Earth.

It was coming closer, this confrontation between Dark and Light. Everyone knew it. From the young to old they all knew the battle would come. Just don't suggest they ever pick up a wand and defend themselves. No let’s leave it to the Golden Boy. He will make it better, after all…

He is Harry Potter.

Xxxxxx

The day everything changed started out like any other for Harry Potter. He got up grumbling about the hour, getting dressed and ready for the day in a groggy fog. His spirits heightened a bit as he reached the great hall for Breakfast. The house elves always had such good food waiting for the students. It always seemed like such a shame to him that most students didn't have a clue who or what cooked their food or made their beds for them. Of course they didn't notice right up until it wasn't done, heads would roll in that unfortunate situation. Sometimes literally as the case was with the definitely insane Black family with their neat rows of severed elf heads adorning the walls. Of course Harry might be a bit more sensitive about noticing -or not noticing as the case may be- housekeeping duties since he was essentially the Dursley’s house elf. 

He was distracted from his somewhat grim thoughts by the tantalizing scents of eggs and bacon. It was amazing how much food could distract a person; especially if that person happened to be a sixteen-year-old wizard. The energy needed to both grow and use magic properly came from food, lots and lots of food. Harry was well on his way to polishing off his meal before Ron came staggering into the Great Hall.

Harry made room for Ron at the table, and continued with his breakfast. Ron was notorious for either not saying a word or talking with his mouth so full you couldn't hear a word he was saying if you tried to start up a conversation with him before he reached for seconds.

Hermione was the last one of their trio to get to the Great Hall. Harry always suspected this was due to her trying to get in that last few minutes of study time before class, whether they had an exam or not. She ate at a much calmer pace than her male friends, which made Harry slow a bit in his own eating because he didn't like making a spectacle of himself. Gorging himself like a pig while sitting next to Ron was different than being next to Hermione, she was much more dignified. Best not to bring focus onto his lack of table manners, after all one can't practice what one doesn't know.

That is when this simple morning turned into a living nightmare and his world once again crumbled.

Two men dressed in somber black robes arrived in the Great Hall, prominently carrying a golden scroll tied shut with a black silk ribbon. That did not bode well for good news in Harry's mind. He looked around quickly, and only then did he notice the Headmaster was not at the head table. His stomach plummeted as the taller of the two men carefully untied the scroll in full view of the students, a small blue spark of magic flying from the knot, apparently confirming the seal had just been broken. The first man handed it to the second to read. The suspense killing the seated students.

"It is with the utmost regrets that I am to deliver this message to you, the students of Hogwarts." The man read steadily from the scroll, little inflection coming to his voice in performing a task that was unfortunately part of his job. "As Executor of Wills for the Ministry of Magic, it is my solemn duty to inform you that on November 6th at 10:25 PM, Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was pronounced dead by a team of doctors from St. Mungos hospital. The cause of death was proven to be a curse of unknown origins; the matter is currently under investigation by skilled wizards trained in tracking this kind of magic.

"The Headship position is to be passed to the Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, she will hence forth assume the duties of Headmistress of this school. An interim Transfiguration Professor will be provided by the ministry until the new Headmistress can hold applicant Interviews for the position herself.

"Any personal bequeaths made to individuals by Albus Dumbledore have been properly divided out and will be available for those who receive an official notice from the Department of Wills. Directions on where to receive your inheritance will be included in the notice along with the description of the items being given.

"Once again it is my regretful duty to inform you that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore is dead." The man finished reading, and carefully handed the damnable scroll to the teary eyed former Transfiguration professor.

The two ministry employees bowed slightly in respect to the new Headmistress, but retreated quickly from the hall. Soon nothing was left but a dead silence and an elderly woman holding onto a golden scroll for dear life.


	2. Lay It On The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsley makes his debut

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not a very complicated man. He was incredibly straight forward in his personality and demeanor, what you saw when you looked at him was exactly what you got. This trait alone made him completely unpredictable. With a world full of uncertainty and fear, everyone was looking for the catch in every statement, and to meet a person without a catch threw people into a panic. An honest man was a rare find, one few recognized as the treasure it was.

It was this reliability that landed the man in the unusual position he found himself in. Him, a high ranking Auror, was now saddled with the task of teaching Transfiguration to the newest generation of witches and wizards. How did he get himself mixed up in this you might ask? Simple, the Minister wanted a powerful Auror in Hogwarts with Dumbledore gone. An Auror with all the necessary clearances to use lethal force in dealing with intrusions and attacks, while still being honorable enough to not abuse the position. Kingsley happened to fit the bill perfectly. Not only was he very good at Transfiguration, he was also not opposed to carrying out the side mission assigned to him by the minister. Namely the babysitting of the resident Death Eater, Snape, and the Golden Boy, Potter.

Rufus Scrimgeour was taking no chances with the now vulnerable Hogwarts. He wanted his best set of eyes there, and his quickest wand. Even though he knew perfectly well Shacklebolt had supported Dumbledore when the man was alive, he trusted Kingsley's ethical code enough to place him in a position where he might be able to sway Harry Potter away from the ministry and into anything the old Headmaster might have set up before his death. Kingsley would not push Potter into a war without a leader, the Ministry was the only viable option left for the boy with Dumbledore dead. 

Snape was a matter entirely different from Potter. A spy was a person born to deceive, the man would have to be treated with extreme caution, double agents had been used in the first rise of Voldemort. On both sides to be honest, and Rufus was a man who learned from history, though being an active duty Auror during those dark days may have created a lingering paranoia. Better paranoid than dead.

Kingsley understood the Minister's point of view, and even though he felt his skill could be put to better use in the field, he hadn’t argued and was now sitting at the Hogwarts' Head table looking over a sea of students. He picked out the children of his colleagues easily, in his field memorizing faces became second nature, and he had met most of the children at Ministry functions at one time or another. Harry was even easier to spot. The Gryffindor table seemed to converge on a single point, like every student had sat as closely to one person as they could get, and Harry was at the center of the cluster. The boy didn't look good. Even surrounded by his friends and house mates, he looked pale and warn out, the dark circles under his eyes clear enough to be seen by Kingsley at the Head table.

"How long has Potter been imitating a ghost?" Kingsley quietly asked the witch sitting next to him; the earth under her fingernails, easy smile, and greying flyaway hair giving her away as the Head of Hufflepuff Pomona Sprout.

She looked at the Gryffindor student in question with a bit of sadness in her eyes, "The poor dear hasn't been right since the end of last year, but I'm afraid the loss of Albus has made the situation worse for him." She explained simply. Professor Sprout was good at keeping an eye on the students of Hogwarts, even those in houses other than her own. It was a knack she picked up from all the time in she spent in the greenhouses helping her plants flourish. 

"He was really that close to Dumbledore?" Kingsley was honestly puzzled about that. At Order headquarters it seemed like the two of them went out of their way to avoid each other, but he couldn't voice that in present company.

"It is never that simple, especially for those two, but in the last few years I have seen the relationship between them grow strained but never break completely." Pomona knew a bit more about the matter than she told the new Professor, but she felt it was better to keep the answer simple. It hadn't been hard to see the bond between Headmaster and Savior, it was the nature of the bond that perplexed people like Pomona who just watched. Some days it seemed there was nothing but frustration and anger between them, but even at the height of these problems she never saw the boy's loyalty wavier.

Kingsley caught most of what wasn't said, the kind professor was not very good at hiding what she was thinking. Even without Legilimency Kingsley could read the emotions the gentle witch wore on her sleeve. There was more to the relationship between Harry and Dumbledore than student and Headmaster, that had been a given, but that there had been animosity between them boded well for his mission. If Harry held frustrations from Dumbledore's handling of the situation then maybe there was a chance he could guide Harry into working with the Ministry, especially if Kingsley did a little digging and found out exactly what Harry's problem had been with the Headmaster. If he could find that out they would have an easier time dealing with Harry rather than driving him away.

Kingsley did wonder if the boy would collapse from exhaustion before or after he got a chance to speak with him. He really did not look good. It made him wonder if there wasn't more wrong with Potter than just the death of Dumbledore. Many people still showed signs of grief, even now, but Harry was the only one that looked like a walking corpse.

"Are you worried about how Potter is dealing with this?" Kingsley decided to ask Pomona after realizing he had gone silent for a tad too long, what he was planning on trying with Harry was not going to sit well with the warm-hearted woman.

She sighed a bit before replying, "In all honesty yes, but there isn't much we can do for him. We are encouraging the students to have a session or two with a mind healer to deal with the situation, but so far Mr. Potter has declined all efforts to get him to go, and he can't be forced unless it's proven he is doing something dangerous to cope. Looking tired isn't enough cause, or you can be assured most of the staff would have him in front of that mind-healer in a heartbeat." She confessed, with a side-long glance at Snape when she mentioned 'most' of the staff.

This was a policy he didn't know much about, "If that isn't enough, then what is?"

She replied easily, "If he harms himself, another person, or someone’s property with the intent to cause pain or destruction. If he did something like stop eating or started setting the castle on fire, we would have just cause." Her sardonic tone at mentioning arson sounded to Kingsley like they may have had such a thing happen in the past.

"We will just have to keep an eye on him then, though I don't see that being any different than usual for him." Kingsley remarked.

"Too true, that boy doesn't get a moments rest from all that pressure. I have an inkling that is the main reason he won’t see someone about his grief, he doesn't want to deal with all the speculation coming at him from all angles." Pomona was not blind or deaf, she knew what the school had put Harry through in the past, and didn't doubt it would happen again at the drop of a hat.

"Never thought of it that way." Kingsley replied honestly, now having an even better idea of how to gain Harry's support and loyalty. It had been a very fortuitous event to talk to the quiet Herbology professor. The woman didn't miss much and she wasn't too shy about saying anything about it either. The woman bore watching just as much as Harry.

Let the games begin.

XXXXXX

On his part Harry was busy doing everything in his power to appear like nothing at all was wrong with him, and yet he was still failing miserably. As much as he trudged on going to classes that he had absolutely no interest in, eating food that tasted like ashes, and keeping himself clean and organized he still couldn't get the eyes off his back. If he could only sleep then maybe people would stop staring at him. He had never gone this long without decent rest. The previous years' visions and nightmares had been tame compared to this year. His grief, the assumed culprit by many outsiders, was only part of the problem. If it was only simple grief it would run its course and steadily get better, if anything this was getting worse as the days passed.

He was fully aware that if he ever wanted a good night's sleep again he would need to talk to someone soon, but he didn't want to go to the mind-healer the rest of the school was. With his luck he would be singled out for special treatment by the healer just so they could make a name for themselves because they cured Harry Potter of his 'horrible depression'. That didn't appeal to him one bit, and he ran that risk with just about any other healer he could go to as well, so for the time being he just kept going the best he could and hoped something would come around that he could either scream at or hex into oblivion. Maybe even both, yes both yelling and generalized destruction sounded quite nice to him. Those odd thoughts were proof enough he wasn’t getting enough sleep, normally he would at least attempt to quash those impulses, not contemplate giving into them.

At least he had a new Professor to think about, it helped to keep his mind off all the bad changes in his life if he focused on something routine since they had a new professor annually in Defense. Shacklebolt was an interesting teacher. The man was tall and broad shouldered, he had a smooth limber build that suggested he was trained to fight in ways other than magic, his skin was the color of good chocolate, and his hair was twisted into tight spirals that barely brushed the tops of his shoulders. In age he looked to be in his early to mid-thirties. As far as classes went, his were direct and to the point, he didn't try to tell them clever anecdotes or the like to get the student's thinking about how to use the spells he taught. That part he left up to them, much like McGonagall and Snape. He explained things well and proved his knowledge by always demonstrating the new spell, never once flubbing a casting, which was impressive for an Auror with no teaching experience. Harry imagined a few of the spells he showed the class hadn't been used since the Professor's own school days, but he still pulled them off.

He hadn't been expecting the man in question to ask him to come see him in his office after classes were over for the day. Harry didn't think he had done anything to get in trouble with Shacklebolt, but he really didn't know much about the man except he was an Order member and was normally an Auror, meaning Harry didn't have a clue what his temperament was. Harry did hope it was better than Snape's was all he managed to think about as he trudged towards the office in question. His body moved sluggishly these days, another side effect from the lack of sleep, and he didn't like it one bit. He hated the feeling of vulnerability his half-asleep awareness put him in.

The door to Kingsley's office stood open, waiting for him to show up presumably, and Harry entered knocking on the door frame as he passed so he didn't startle Shacklebolt too badly when he noticed the elder wizard had his back to the room; looking out the window.

"Come in Mr. Potter, you're right on time thank you for coming." Kingsley invited Harry into the office, turning away from the window as he did so, leaving Harry to wonder why a trained Auror would put his back to an open door where anyone could walk by and try to harm him. As if knowing what Harry was probably thinking, he explained easily "I used the reflection in the window like a mirror, I could see who was in the hallway quite clearly."

"That makes sense." Harry responded, just because he felt he should say something, rather than stand around like a statue.

Shacklebolt's first question was unexpected enough to shock Harry out of his fog for the moment. "Harry do you have any idea why I asked you to come here tonight?"

"No, I assumed it had something to do with class." Harry admitted, now feeling a bit insecure, though Shacklebolt couldn't do anything to harm him and get away with it, Harry's Transfiguration class had all heard the Professor ask Harry to stop by.

It didn't help Harry's nerves any when the Professor crossed the room and firmly closed the office door before speaking." I wanted to let you know a few things about why I was chosen for this position, a large bit of it had to do with you and I believe you have the right to know what is going on." Kingsley started carefully, it was hard to make this conversation into anything that didn't resemble coercion, and he really didn't want to do that to Harry. This was about getting Harry to trust him, and by extension the Ministry, Kingsley knew trust could not be formed on lies no matter how well intentioned they were.

Harry was even more surprised at that. "You mean I am actually going to be told about something that concerns me before it lands me in the Infirmary?" If Harry had been in better control of his faculties he may have handled that differently, but it was too late to take the statement back.

"Yes, I figured if you are grown enough to be a focal point in this war," Seeing Harry's indignant expression after that statement Kingsley had to do some fast talking, "Now don't give me that look. We both know you are expected to be a part of the solution, and that you were being pushed into it by the magical world in general and groomed by Dumbledore, it isn't hard to figure out. What I was going to say is that if you are going to be a part of the war, then you had better be strong enough to handle the information that tells you exactly which part of the war you may be involved in. I will tell you flat out, no one, not even the Minister himself can force you to fight if you don't want to. You have to choose to fight for any of what I tell you to matter. I do still think you deserve to know what is happening even if you do choose to bow out of the fighting." Kingsley hoped he recovered from his bad start, if Harry assumed he was just another war monger trying to force him into the fight he might not even listen to anything further Kingsley had to say.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what to think about Shacklebolt yet, but figured if the man wasn't lying then Harry would be a fool to stop him from speaking now. "Alright, I will listen to what you have to say. I am making no promises to agree with you though." He figured that was a safe enough response.

"To begin with you need to know the Minister is interested in you. He doesn't want to know about the things that get written up in the papers, but the reality of how powerful you are, and how temperamental. He would like to work with you now that Dumbledore can't be here for you. Scrimgeour is a fair man, tough, but fair and I personally think he is worth hearing out at least before you make any hasty decisions based on prior encounters with the Ministry. A lot of things have changed since your trial last year." Here Kingsley paused to let the information sink in.

He continued talking after Harry gave a nod of understanding." The second part you need to know is from both the Ministry and the Order, Albus left the running of the Order in the hands of myself, Severus, and Minerva. The problem with this is my orders from the ministry are to keep an extremely close watch on Severus, and my position at the Ministry and here could be compromised if I am found to be 'in league' with him. If I am going to carry out both my duties I need people to act as a buffer between Severus and myself, adults will be watched, students will be much less suspicious. This is once again your choice, but at least I can tell you exactly what you will be expected to do if you say yes." Kingsley stopped there, the rest was up to Harry.

"Ok, so the way I have it understood is you are here working for the Minister trying to get information on me, and make sure Snape is really what he says he is. Three of you were left in charge of the Order, and now your duties for the Order are conflicting with the assignment from the minister. You want me to help you maintain your position in the Order at the same time you are encouraging me to talk to the Minister about working with him for the war. Did I leave anything out?" Harry was a tad overwhelmed to say the least.

"That seems to be the main bits of it yes. Harry listen, when the dust settles on the battlefield the Order and the Ministry will be on the same side. They always did have the same goals, protecting the populace, admittedly under Fudge that was nearly impossible to do on the Ministry's part. Yet those few good men and woman did fight together with the Order in the first rise. The main difference is the Ministry makes laws to help, and the Order works around them. I am not split in my loyalties by supporting both sides, and neither would you if you chose that path. A bonus to working openly with the Ministry would be far more maneuvering room than with the Order, you can't be arrested for following the Minister's orders." Kingsley tried to explain as well as he could.

"Wait, if you don't have split loyalties than why the secrecy with Snape?" Harry really didn't understand.

Kingsley sighed a bit there, "My loyalties are not the problem. I believe in the long run I will be thanked by Scrimgeour for following this course of action, it is just while it is happening there is the need to tread carefully. I did the same thing while heading the investigation for Sirius, I mislead the team, because in the end if I had let an innocent man go back to jail I would be failing at my job. Auror's are meant to protect the innocent, not lock them away."

"I think I am starting to understand, I would like a little time to think before I become your gopher, but I promise I will seriously consider both things you told me about." Harry promised, getting ready to leave and find somewhere to think.

"That is all I can ask, thank you, I know it is a lot to deal with." Kingsley agreed, and watched as Harry left his office. The entire time they had spoken, Harry had stood tensely in the middle of the room, as if afraid to let down his guard, and even worse in his opinion was that the signs of exhaustion on him were startlingly clear. That’s when the big mistakes happened, the ones that got people hurt or killed. Kingsley couldn't help but start to worry about Harry Potter, something was going horribly wrong in the young man's life, and Kingsley wondered if he shouldn't track down the source. If Harry was going to fight he need to be strong, all he looked like now was an apparition.


	3. Grenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nocturnal run-in with a wounded spy spurs Harry into meeting the Minister of Magic, and a tempting offer is put on the table.

Harry didn't have as much time to think as he had hoped for, his wake up call came all too quickly on the heels of his talk with Kingsley. He had taken to walking alone at night to try and alleviate his insomnia. He brought the map with him in those wanderings to keep himself from getting in too much trouble, though there was no escaping the disapproving looks and tone of the Fat Lady guarding Gryffindor tower. He soon began to see a certain routine establishing itself in the castle. The teachers patrolled on a nightly rotation that was highly predictable to someone with Harry's resources. He knew at all times where each Professor should be.

It was two weeks after his talk with Kingsley, and almost a month since Dumbledore's death, when something was out of place. Or more precisely someone. Severus was returning to the entrance hall from outside the castle, on a night he was not scheduled for patrolling. His neatly labeled dot on the parchment was moving at an oddly slow pace, even for three in the morning. Harry had never seen him move so slowly. It was odd enough to make Harry investigate despite the risk of getting caught by Snape and ending up in Detention for a month.

Avoiding the other patrolling professors was relatively easy with the several nights of practice he had under his belt. Avoiding being seen by Snape was an altogether different task, there weren't many places to hide in the Entrance hall and Harry's Invisibility cloak was in Gryffindor tower. Harry wasn't very good with Invisibility spells yet, so he chanced it with a Notice-Me-Not charm and pure luck on his side. The moment he spotted Snape he knew two things immediately: one, he figured out why Snape was moving so slowly, and two, his precautions were probably unnecessary. The older wizard was limping badly, his dark robes clung to his body in patches like they had gotten wet when it wasn't raining, and completing the gruesome picture was an oddly shaped object clutched in his left hand that glimmered with a silvery sheen in the dim light of the hall. Harry put it together in his head and knew the object was the skull shaped mask of a Death Eater, and his Potions Professor had just survived another meeting with the Dark Lord.

Harry would blame the ongoing insomnia for what happened next, risking life and limb he crept along behind the struggling spy, tailing him into the Dungeons. Harry winced each time the Professor's breath hitched at taking a step imagining the pain the limp must be causing going down the many stairs. When Snape was a few feet from where Harry knew the Slytherin dorm was the man wavered a bit as if he were dizzy and started to collapse. Harry instinctively reached out to steady him, not considering the consequences of being caught in the middle of the night by a paranoid spy that was in pain and disoriented. Harry was lucky to duck the first spell, but unlucky enough to feel several ribs protest as a fist connected to his chest with enough force to knock the wind out of him. It seemed whether he was hurt or not, Snape would fight with all the strength he had left.

"Professor stop!" Harry cried out hoping the title would snap the delirious Potions Master out of the attack.

It took a moment but Snape did find his bearings from the distressed call, "Potter?" He even recognized the voice, though he clearly thought he heard wrong if the questioning tone was anything to go by.

"Yes Professor, I know where you were tonight, and I promise I won’t say a word to anyone else. You looked like you could use some help getting to where ever you were headed." Harry filled Snape in on the reason he was there quickly.

Snape pulled himself together enough to tower over Harry in full on Dungeon Bat mode. "And just why were you out of bed after curfew in the first place?"

"Oh quit that Snape. We both know if there is danger in this castle, of all the students that could be out of bed, I'm one of the better prepared ones to face whatever it is." Harry defended himself with an even tone. He was not in the mood to take the Professor's bravado, especially when said professor looked to be losing a large amount of blood. "How about you assign me detention after we get you patched up? You just about collapsed back there. Face it you need help, and it's either me or Pomfrey, and I know she won’t let you leave the Infirmary for at least a full day. So which is it?" Harry realized he was taking a gamble, Snape had proven not five minutes earlier he still had some fight left in him, if Snape got too riled Harry would end up toast and he knew it.

"Why would I trust you to help me? You can barely brew a decent bruise cream let alone a blood-replenisher." Snape ground out, not liking the ultimatum one bit, but was forced to grudgingly admit Potter had a point.

Harry raised an eyebrow but answered quickly, not liking just how pale Snape was growing as the stubborn man stood there arguing. "Are you telling me the almighty Potions Master of Hogwarts doesn't have a personal supply already prepared for occasions like this? Don't make me laugh, I bet you have a better stock than the Hospital Wing. I don't have to know how to brew them to apply them. Merlin knows I have been patched up enough to know what's what, and if you manage to stay conscious you can tell me anything I don't already know. Now you are losing a lot of blood, I can tell that just looking at you, so don't argue and just lead the way."

Snape knew the brat had a point, and he didn't need the boy to tell him how much blood he was losing. It was either accept help now, like Potter insisted, or spend days laid up recovering as blood-replenishing potions took time to work just like Skele-Gro. "If you tell anyone where we are about to go I will skin you alive and harvest your organs for Potion's ingredients." He threatened before turning and moving slowly towards his private quarters, where he did indeed have a stash of healing potions.

Harry didn't doubt the Dark man would carry out his threat if pushed, so he stayed a respectable distance away when Severus finally stopped to give the password to a stretch of blank wall. The only indication that it wasn't just a wall was a tiny carved image on a block about even with Harry's chest. It was too dark to get a good look at the image, but it appeared to be some kind of Celtic knot, it was about an inch in diameter and very easy to pass over if you weren't looking for it.

The room he was led into was simple and utilitarian, a large desk was pressed up against the wall with ink covered parchments strewn across its top, Harry recognized Snape's elegant handwriting and figured it must be some kind of personal project. There was a fireplace in the corner burning lowly at this late hour, but it still threw off enough heat Harry was surprisingly comfortable for being in the dungeons in December. Across from the fireplace was a black leather couch that had a well-worn portion on the side closest to the fireplace. A table sat near the couch at the perfect level to grab a drink one handed while relaxing in the worn spot on the sofa. Next to the desk was a bookcase with three exposed shelves of books, but it also had a closed off portion in it for storing items or books Snape didn't want to be readily seen.

Snape had the doors on the bookcase open, rummaging through the contents that Harry presumed were potions. Harry had time to look around the room and spot the two doors leading off to the bedroom and bathroom before his Professor came over to the table by the couch, setting down several vials and jars of potions and creams." If you insist on being here, then make yourself useful, the blue jar holds a cleaning agent in it. Wipe an even coat over any open wounds so I don't end up with an infection." Snape had decided on the long painful walk to his room after Harry confronted him that since he didn't ask the brat to do this, and Potter was likely to see much worse than this in the war effort, he would not shield the boy from any of the gruesome details. If Potter was going to risk his life, and others, running into dangerous situations every other week, it was best to let him see the Darker side of war. The glamorless painful reality of fighting until you can't fight anymore, hobbling home in pain so deep you just want to scream but can't make the sound come out, and at the end of it all not being sure whether you won or lost the battle for the day.

It was with this thought in mind the Snape started to remove his robes and reveal the injuries he had sustained in the course of the evening. Harry had to draw in a sharp breath and concentrate heavily on not throwing up his dinner at what he saw. It wasn't that Snape had a few deep wounds that bleed profusely, it was much worse. In the place of deep wounds, he was covered in a multitude of small painful lacerations that looked like they had been inflicted by a metal wire lashed at him like a whip, Harry nearly gagged again when he realized that for Snape's skin to be so damaged and his robes still intact, the wounds must have been inflicted on bare skin.

Taking control of his queasiness with an iron grip, he turned to the task Snape had set out for him, going over each mark with as a light a touch as he could manage, while Snape carefully dosed himself with the other potions he had brought over before rubbing a different kind of cream into the deeper wounds to stop the bleeding faster and speed up healing. This one was stronger, and had to be used sparingly, he couldn't use it on all the wounds without overdosing.

When the worst of the bleeding had stopped, and most of the wounds were covered in a thin layer of the cleansing cream, Harry got enough nerve back to ask questions. "Does this happen every meeting, or was there a specific reason this was done to you?"

Severus had to hold back a sigh as the questions started, he knew they would once Potter got over his shock, to the boy's credit it had been a quicker recovery time than Snape had assumed it would be. "There is always pain involved to some degree, the Dark Lord enjoys seeing people in pain, even his own followers. Tonight he was experimenting with an alteration to the whipping curse, he was attempting to narrow the focus, the more magic focused on a single point the more damage is inflicted. Most nights that is the case, we are his test subjects so long as we bare the Mark, unfortunately the one thing that the Dark Lord is undeniably good at is altering spells."

Most of Snape's comments on Voldemort didn't shock Harry, he had known Tom Riddle was a brilliant student and hadn't expected that to change, what did shock him was Voldemort using his own people to test out these theories. "Why would he risk his own people? Shouldn't he be trying to gain their respect and support so they will fight harder for him?"

Snape stopped his work for a moment to look Harry straight in the eye. "Listen well Potter, Dumbledore kept you naive for a reason, you were young and impulsive and shouldn’t have had to face the realities of the situation. Only now you are facing down this war with everyone seeing you as an adult, and you no longer have the Headmaster to act as a buffer. You will be faced with a lot of difficult to accept situations and impossible to imagine cruelties, and it is all for one reason alone. The Dark Lord is completely and utterly insane. He does not care who he hurts or kills so long as someone is screaming when he casts a spell. He would kill Light and Dark alike if he didn't need a few good people in high places to bring in new prey. Do not entertain thoughts of rehabilitating him or any such nonsense, he is too far gone for that to work now even if it might have before, but he is smart enough to make you think it will. You have all the humanity he lacks, and that can be your greatest weapon, or worse weakness, and he will exploit it if he finds out about it." Snape drove his point home with a deathly calm voice that left no room for doubt.

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry was feeling nauseous again, and couldn't help but be suspicious of the man who tortured him in class for going on six years.

Snape seemed to echo Harry's thoughts with his response. "Potter this is not Potions class. This goes so much further than tests and grades that if you honestly believe people are going to treat you the same on the battlefield as they do in a classroom you are far naiver than I realized. This is War Potter. Ugly and nasty. No one fights it alone, not even if some blasted prophecy says it is you that will kill him. You may very well do that, but if Dumbledore had told you everything that meant when you were twelve years old, which I believe was the first time you asked about all this, you may have just run screaming out of Hogwarts and never came back. People are going to die, on both sides, people you have loved or hated for years, and yet in the heat of battle all that matters is who stays alive and who lands in the dust."

Harry briefly entertained the thought of running and screaming like Snape had mentioned, but then he realized something. "I'm going to ask a personal question. If you do not want to answer it, then don't, I won’t hold it against you. How old were you when Voldemort recruited you?" Harry was privy to the information even if Snape was a spy now, he was once a full-fledged Death Eater.

Knowing what Potter was after Severus gave the answer the boy was looking for, "Potter, there wasn't a single moment looking back where I became one of his followers, it happened gradually. I was groomed for it for a few years by Lucius in Hogwarts, I attended a few meetings the summer after graduation before being Marked at eighteen. Lucius began to seriously pull me in that direction at the end of my fifth year, when he was graduating and I had two years to think about it. So you could say I was about your age when I shifted to the Dark."

"I don't know what made you switch sides back to the Light, and I'm not asking because on the off chance you answered I'm not sure I could take any more shocks right now, but I know you have your reasons for changing, and it must be a damn good reason for you to put up with this meeting after meeting." Harry started trying to get his thoughts in order. "I can't ignore what I have seen and heard tonight, just because I may not like the source. Seeing this, knowing what you and many others have given up fighting this war, on one side or the other, I can do no less. Shacklebolt asked me to work with both the Order and the ministry to fight Voldemort. I admit I'm still unsure about the Minister, but I am going to meet with the man and see what he has to say. As for the Order, I will do as needed and get your messages to each other. I may regret this decision when everything is over, but I am going to stay and fight."

"Good," Harry nearly collapsed at Snape's compliment, but before the shock had worn off, Snape added. "Now get out of my living room. I don't want to see you back here unless you have a message from the Order." Harry felt much better as the world righted itself and Snape went back to normal for the most part.

Though as he began the long trek to Gryffindor tower he thought long and hard on what the man had said, and couldn't help but feel some of the weight lift off his chest. Breathing a little easier at seeing and hearing about violent torture and death might seem odd to some, but for Harry just making the choice to stand and fight took that much pressure off him. One less question to answer. Now just what did the Minister want with him?  
Xxxxxxx

 

Kingsley volunteered to escort Harry to the meeting he had set up between boy and Minister. He wanted to make sure no one else got their claws into Harry before the situation had properly been explained, once the meeting was over Harry was free to talk to whomever he needed to in order to make a good decision, until then Kingsley wanted the young man to go into the situation as unbiased as possible considering his past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.

Harry -to his credit- followed along without protest, he had asked for this after all. No matter how bad the memories were for him regarding this place he needed to push through that history and deal with the present. Thankfully he was taken to a part of the building he hadn't been to before so it wasn't as difficult as it could have been. The two of them didn't have to wait long before being ushered into the office by a well-dressed man in his late fifties or early sixties.

Harry gave the new minister a once over while the introductions were made. Rufus Scrimgeour was built like a soldier with heavy muscles and upright posture, he wasn't overly tall but he made up for it by having a large presence that caused Harry to have a bit more confidence in him already. His hair was turning gray at the temples with streaks interspersed in the golden blond locks. Instead of making him look infirm, the gray enhanced his fighter's physique by giving him the appearance of having experience. His voice when he spoke was firm and no-nonsense, and Harry found himself having a good first impression of the man who was supposed to lead them through the war to come.

"Alright, now that the niceties are out of the way. Let's get down to business." The minister began the serious discussion easily, no need to be too forceful with Harry yet, he didn't want to frighten the boy away. "I have heard rumors about your relationship with Headmaster Dumbledore and I wanted to say I am truly sorry for your loss; I apologize for being unable to give you more time to grieve but unfortunately time waits for no wizard. I need you Harry Potter to support the Ministry in this war, fighting aside simply having your name associated with us will open many doors that were closed to us with the mishandling of this office over the last few decades. That is what this meeting is for, and what I hope to achieve with coming directly to you."

Harry was thankful the minister had come out and told him the truth from the outset rather than beat around the bush. "I won't make any rash decisions, I've lost too many people important to me by doing that before, however I am willing to listen to you. Why should I support the ministry? How exactly do you intend to use me to help you win against Voldemort?" Harry was privately testing the Minister, and was glad when he noticed a slight tensing but no other flinch or outward sign of distress at hearing the Dark Lord's name.

"Those are both very good questions Mr. Potter. I would like to answer your second question first though as it is by far the easier one to answer. I need you to publicly support our new policy changes, as well as any necessary measures we might take during the battles that will most likely occur. The media is a very good tool, when used properly, to reach the public. Outside of the papers I would like your magical support during any skirmishes that happen; so basically I would like you to openly become one of my soldiers. I don't think this request is much different from what you were going to be asked to do all along, the only difference is the source.

"To answer your first question of why you should do this in the first place, I believe this course of action could save lives. By using your name to back our policies put in place for the people's protection we reach out to two groups instead of just those supporting us or you. With the Headmaster's death the people who previously supported him over the Ministry, and I know that was quite a large number, are going to be looking for someone to take over his command. That person will most likely be you, as you are the Boy-Who-Lived and that title brings prestige with it.

"In return for your agreement, and yes you do get a choice I can't and more importantly won't force you, I can offer you certain incentives. The most pressing one being an instant placement in our training grounds, within which I can have you fighting on an auror's level fairly quickly depending on how hard you work. This will help both you and us, as the stronger you are the better chance of your survival and our victory. Plus, if you accept the training from us I can legally exempt you from the underage magic laws. You will also have unlimited access to information about the war, the only time a piece of intelligence will be out of your reach is if it is pertaining to a Fidelius charm or other measure of extreme protection. The source of the information may also be hidden, but that falls under the exception I already gave, I am protecting my sources as much as I can. 

"Do you have any questions, or need me to explain anything deeper than that?" Rufus finally stopped, after realizing he may be throwing too much at Potter all at once. Dumbledore had been training the boy, but they had no idea how quickly that training progressed. If they overloaded him now it would take even longer to get the support they needed from him, if they ever did get it.

"So far what I got is this, you want me to be your poster boy so that the masses have a better chance of listening to your rules and keeping themselves safe. You also want me to take part in the actual fighting when the time comes for that. In return I will get the training I need to take on the Death Eaters, permission to use magic outside of Hogwarts, as well as access to military information about the war so I am not running in blind." At Rufus' approving nod Harry continued. "I haven't heard anything yet that would make me turn you down flat, but what about Hogwarts? Am I going to travel back and forth between school and the Ministry? Trying to keep up with both my classes and the probably intense training is likely to be too much for me to handle all at once."

Rufus shook his head, and Kingsley looked on in curiosity as he had been wondering about that too. "No, you won't be traveling back and forth, if you agree to do this, you will have a place to stay here in the auror barracks. As for your education the Ministry can provide a tutor for your core classes to have you ready to complete NEWTs when you have learned enough for them. Staying here will give you the option of taking the tests early if you work through the material quicker than your classmates, which with one on one attention and a narrower focus, that should be very possible."

"So what you are saying is this, if I agree I am leaving school and my friends behind to come here and become an auror two years earlier than I should be able to?" Harry asked, wanting to make sure he understood the situation for what it was. He remembered his conversation with Snape not too long ago, this war would be brutal, but at least the minister was offering him training before sending him off onto a battlefield.

"Yes, without the sugar coating, and adding a bit of politics to it, that is essentially exactly what I am offering." Rufus admitted.

"How much time will I have to think it over?" Harry had been serious earlier, he was done making rash decisions, he wanted some time.

Rufus took a moment to think before answering, "The sooner the better, if you could get back to me through Kingsley in the next couple of weeks that would be preferred, just try not to take longer than a month please?"

Harry nodded his head, "I can have the decision before then, I would like to talk to my friends a bit, and possibly a professor or two, beyond that I like what I have heard. I'm not thrilled about being used as a media hound, but if it’s to help people I'm willing to give it some thought before rejecting the idea completely."

"Good, then I think our business here is done, Shacklebolt you and Mr. Potter can head back to Hogwarts for the time being. I look forward to your answer Mr. Potter." Rufus offered his hand to Harry in a gesture of goodwill.

Harry shook the hand of the Minister of Magic, and turned to follow the top class Auror back to Hogwarts. It was hard to believe he may be giving up the first place he ever really felt at home, but the Minister did have a good point, and Harry wanted to get through this war preventing as many deaths as possible. The poster boy thing was not high on his list of good things, but the offered training was almost too good to pass up.

He need to talk to Hermione and Ron, to do this he would be leaving them behind, Ron would be mad at him he bet, but Hermione would see the logic in the situation. He wanted time to think yes, but for the moment Harry was seeing more good than bad in the Minister's offer.


	4. Sweet Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets the advice he sorely needs, and makes a choice that sets him on the path to the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to mention I don't really like Ron as a character, and while I didn't actually intend any bashing in this fic it is just really difficult for me to write him as anything less than obnoxious. He isn't evil or scheming, it's just my quirk showing up in this one, sorry folks.

"Harry are you really sure you want to do this?" Hermione inquired seriously, her cinnamon brown eyes drilling into him, while Ron sputtered in the background still trying to digest what Harry had told them about his meeting with the Minister.

Harry held her gaze as best he could while still worn out from the ordeal, but he finally answered, "I'm not sure Hermione, it sounds like a good idea, and it would save a lot of people, but I really don't like the part where I have to become their poster boy."

"Well, it sounds to me like you have some room to negotiate, because they need you more than you need them at this point. I agree you could use the training," At his indignant 'Hey!' she looked at him crossly, "Yes Harry, you heard me right. I think you could use the training, but that is only because I don't want to see you get hurt. My point is, there are other ways for you to train, but they only have one shot at getting you to cooperate with them. I think your idea of going to one of the professors for advice is a good one, they would know more about the laws, and the rights you have, than I would."

At that Ron finally broke out of his stupor, "Oh common Hermione, he gets the chance to be an Auror! Why wouldn't he go for it? You are the smartest witch in our year, and you know all the laws from helping Hagrid with Buckbeak's trial, so Harry doesn't need someone else when he has you!" Ron looked sheepish as both his friends shushed him, he hadn't meant to be so loud, but Harry had really shocked him this time.

Hermione shook her head sharply, "Oh Ron, think about it, I might have read some law books, but I haven't read much about this kind of law, maybe a bit when I was trying to set up a deal with Skeeter to leave Harry alone, but there is no way I can possibly know as much as the adults would. They would at least have a better idea of where to look for the information. Face it, this is beyond the three of us, we are going to need advice. Harry who were you thinking about going to?"

Having sat back and let Hermione deal with Ron, Harry had taken a few moments to think on that, "Well I think I want someone who wasn't quite so close to Dumbledore, they would want me to be more involved in the Order than the Ministry. I was thinking about Flitwik or Sprout, I trust them, and they seem to be honest and fair. If they agree I might suck up my pride and talk to Snape, he would know a thing or two about negotiating contracts. Dumbledore had him so tied up in promises he is still paying for his mistakes to this day."

"Ok, I think that would be a good idea," Hermione's response was cut short as Ron once again interrupted.

"I get Flitwik and Sprout, but why the greasy bat? He hates you, so he would probably tell you exactly what you shouldn't do in order to humiliate you!" He looked about ready to explode with irritation, and Harry suddenly got the impression that while Snape hated Harry more, it was Ron that returned the hatred.

"Ron, I'm going to tell you part of what he told me, this is war. People are not going to act the same with us as they do in school, and that includes Snape. He puts his life on the line to bring back information on Voldemort, and all he gets in return is hatred and ridicule. After having the Prophet drag my name through the mud under Fudge I would know how badly that can affect a person. Is he a nice person? No. Is he someone I think I can rely on when it comes to the important things? Yes." Harry wanted the hatred to stop, Ron didn't have to like Snape, as Harry didn't even like the man, but that didn't stop him from having a healthy dose of respect for the Slytherin spy.

Ron went silent at Harry's words, allowing Hermione to weigh in on the subject, "I think you're right Harry. I agree with waiting to talk to Snape last, but which one are you going to talk to first?"

"I don't have a preference really, but I know where Flitwik's office is, that seems like a good place to start," Harry told her with a slight smile, not wanting the conversation to be nothing but angst.

"As good as any," Hermione agreed, "Do you want us to come with you?"

Harry thought about it for a few moments, "Nah, thanks anyway, but this is something I gotta do on my own. You two stay here and make sure no one heard us, I will be back soon."

"What, you're going now?" Ron broke in, slowly getting over his shock at Harry defending Snape.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, no point in waiting, might as well get this over with. This is the Minister of Magic asking me to think about this, I should probably get to it sooner rather than later."

"Good thinking, we'll be here when you get back." Hermione supported him, sending him off with a brief hug, before turning to the common room as a whole intending on doing what Harry asked and making sure they hadn't been over heard.

Harry left the common room, ducking out of the portrait and heading towards Flitwik's office. It was an odd hour between lunch and dinner, students were either grouped together in the library, or out on the grounds romping in the snow, not many were in the halls so Harry made it to the right room rather quickly, only one staircase impeding his progress. He hesitated at the office door, the plain oak sitting innocently under his burning gaze.

"Whatever my poor door has done to upset you, it apologizes," Flitwik's voice startled Harry out of his staring contest with the inanimate wood, and Harry turned to his Charms professor with a slight blush reddening his cheeks.

He spoke quickly before he could lose his nerve, "I wanted to speak with you Professor, do you have a few minutes to spare?"

"I do have a few minutes, come in, come in," He invited, opening the door and leading the Gryffindor boy inside, "What's on your mind? Trouble with the assignment?" He had assigned a three-foot essay on the merits of using truth spells versus truth potions, interesting work, but not what Harry had come for.

"No Professor, the assignment is going fine. This is something a touch more personal," Harry replied, most of his nerve dying as he realized he wasn't sure how to explain the situation he found himself in.

"How can I help you? Minerva is still your head of house until she finds someone new, is this something she is aware of?" Flitwik seemed to realize his problem, and attempted to help him out by asking open-ended questions, letting Harry approach the subject in a way that made him comfortable.

Harry shook his head, "I have not spoken to Profess... I mean Headmistress McGonagall about this; I needed someone non-biased and fair. I was offered a deal by the ministry, and I don't quite know what to do, she is too personally involved with me as my Head of House for her to think logically and not attempt to bundle me away and out of danger. Unfortunately, that approach just isn't going to work for me, so I was hoping you may be able to give me some advice on what I should do." He spilled out as much as he could without saying too much about the Order or the deal the Minister had given him; he wouldn't overload his Professor if Flitwik couldn't or wouldn't help him.

On his part, Flitwik just blinked slowly and allowed the deluge of information to wash over him, reading as much in what wasn't said as what was. "I will do what I can, now what kind of deal were you offered?" He asked once Harry had finished his request.

Harry spent the next few minutes outlining his meeting with the minister, concluding with, "I like most of the plan, but I think I am missing a few things, and I don't know much about the rules outlining how and when a governing body can use a person's name in print."

"The first question you need to ask yourself is are you ready to give up your formal education for basic tutoring and advanced Auror training? This would mean when the fighting is done your choice for future employment will be limited compared to a school graduate." Flitwik decided to go through it step-by-step, the boy looked like he was about to keel over with worry and information overload, it was time to tackle the dragon one claw at a time.

Harry answered quickly, "Yes I am willing, I like it here, Hogwarts is my home, but I need to know how to fight. No matter if I stay or go, the battle will follow me so it's better I have training. I understand it could cause problems in the future, but the Minister did say I will be able to take my NEWTs, so I won't be completely unemployable."

Flitwik nodded, a bit sadly if Harry was reading him right, "I thought you would say that, I can't say I like it, but I understand why you would make that choice. Moving from there it seems the most difficult problem you are having is the wish to use your name to further their cause, correct?"

Harry nodded, getting his thoughts pulled together now that he had support other than his friends which even Hermione admitted they were in over their heads, "That's right, the press and I don't have a good history, or the Minister and I for that matter, but if it could save people I don't want to just say no without thinking about them."

"My advice would be to have a written agreement between you and Minister Scrimgeour stating that all published material involving your name be run by you, if something is published without your consent you have the right to revoke your end of the deal and refuse all further support. I suggest getting yourself a law wizard to back you up should that happen. In truth nothing should be printed with your name if you haven't given permission without legal consequences, but with you being underage the reporters found a loophole. In this deal if the Minister grants you freedom to use your magic he is in essence emancipating you, and you would be able to seek legal action without the backing of a full adult." Flitwik explained, clearing up a lot of questions that had occurred to Harry over the years of dealing with Rita's hounding.

"But in taking this deal wouldn't I be giving the Minister the right to use my name as he sees fit?" Harry asked feeling a bit confused on that point.

Flitwik smiled gently at him, "If you had taken the deal without stipulations, then yes you would have given him free rein to use your name however he wished to, but if you add this into the deal you would be safer. A contract is full of compromises, both parties should gain something of equal value in the deal, without giving up so much they are being used."

With every word from the tiny wizard Harry was even gladder he had decided to come to him, it had been the right choice. "So to make the deal fair, he can use my name, but I get to approve of how he uses it?"

"Yes, it will probably be a bit more complicated than that when it comes down to individual articles, but that is the goal. Another point would be the loosening of the magic restrictions, you can freely use magic, but he is asking you to use it to help him once you are trained. You both get something out of it." Flitwik nodded in approval at Harry's coming to grips with the situation so quickly, he could handle shock well on a normal basis, but he had handled a bit too much lately, he was only sixteen and even Merlin could only take so much at once.

Harry let his thoughts drift for a few minutes, giving himself time to let everything fall into place, there had been a lot of shocks over the past few days, after too much trauma in the previous months and years. He was intelligent and capable, but he needed to give himself the space to let that side of himself come into play again. Once he was ready he spoke to the patiently waiting Charms professor, "I think I'm going to take the deal, truthfully I knew I was going to, but I did need your help sorting through the specifics. I am out of my depth." He admitted.

"Mr. Potter, this isn't something that anyone should just jump into, child or adult, you did the right thing in waiting and asking for help. It is a student's job to learn and a Professor's job to teach, and that won't stop whether you are in school or the Aurors' barracks, never be afraid to take the time to think and get a second opinion." Flitwik advised.

Harry got a startled look on his face, before nodding slowly, "You know, no one has ever told me that before. Usually it's jump first ask questions later. I get in trouble for trying to find answers, and even more trouble for going without them, sometimes it's hard to know what to do."

"Take it from an old Raven," Flitwik started with another gentle smile, "It's better to have answers than not, even if you have to wade through opposition to get them, ignorance is never the answer."

Harry gave a wiry grin, "I'm a Gryffindor Professor I think wading through opposition is the job description."

Flitwik's smile widened, "You may have a point there, but no House is obsolete, all of us could learn from each other. No battle is won alone, and this school wouldn't be the same without Ravens, Badgers, Snakes, and Lions."

"Thank you Professor Flitwik, this has meant a lot to me," Harry was indeed incredibly thankful to the small man, he was surprisingly easy to talk to once he got started.

"You're welcome, it's what we are here for," Flitwik assured.

Harry gave a warm smile, one not many people saw, before excusing himself, "I should be going now, I have one more person to talk to and I was hoping to catch him before dinner. Hope he is in a good mood."

"May I ask who else you are approaching?" Flitwik was curious who it could be, there weren't that many male teachers that Harry would know.

Harry figured he had already told so much to this man, what was one more thing, "I was going to ask Professor Snape," He confessed.

That confirmed Flitwik's suspicions, "He would be a good choice for advice, listen to him, I know you do not get along but he does know what he is talking about." Flitwik knew a lot about their youngest staff member, including the fact even if he had a shady past he could be trusted now. Maybe not well liked, but trusted all the same.

Harry left Flitwik on his own with a smile and a wave after nodding in agreement to his assessment of the Potion's professor. His good mood lasted him the whole trip to the dungeons until he was once more standing outside an office door, this one even more menacing than the one he held a staring contest with earlier. Bolstering all his courage, he knocked steadily three times before dropping his hand, ready to make himself scarce if the Professor wasn't in.

He couldn't get that lucky, the silky voice commanded him to enter just as he was about to bolt. Cautiously opening the door, he stepped slowly inside, taking in the seated Professor, the bottle of red ink, and the half-finished pile of essays in front of Snape before the snapped question, "Potter, what are you doing here?"

Taking a deep breath, Harry spoke as concisely as he could so Snape didn't have time to chuck him out, "The Minister has offered me a deal that I think I am going to take, and I would appreciate your advice on how to be his ally and not his lap dog." He felt he had explained that well for a 15-second speech.

Out of everything Snape was expecting, that wasn't even close, though to his credit he pulled himself together quickly. "You want me to help you? Why should I clean up another one of your messes?"

Harry's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched in the beginnings of anger, "Listen, this isn't me trying to get myself out of a mess; this is me trying to prevent one in the first place. I have a chance to help save people, and get myself the training I need to survive the war in return, but I need to know how to make it out of there without selling my soul."

Snape leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him, "There isn't a way. No matter whom you fight for you are giving them your soul. The only thing any of us can do is chose who to sell it to, and for what price. How far are you willing to go? What will you give up? What do you want in return? That is what you should be asking yourself." The boy was crazy enough to ask, he wouldn't spoon-feed the brat, he needed to learn quickly, without training wheels, while speeding downhill towards a rampaging river.

"How far am I willing to go? I have been asked to leave the only home I ever knew, train as an Auror with people at least two years older than me, while using the fame I hate to try to save a few people during the time I am training before my power will be used in Merlin knows how many battles. I would say I am willing to go pretty damn far. What will I give up? A chance at a normal future, the title of just Harry, any anonymity at all, and what's left of my childhood if you could call what I had a childhood. Not to mention all I would be leaving behind here, my friends and housemates that care about me. What do I want in return? I want this war to end. I want left alone when it's over, but I doubt that is going to happen. I want to go back in time and strangle Voldemort in his cradle, but that is definitely not going to happen. So I am stuck with just ending this war and hoping I can fade into the muggle world or change my identity and move to another country, I hear Japan is nice, or maybe Brazil? I know a boa constrictor that was trying to get there." Harry knew he was ranting towards the end but he couldn't stop himself.

Snape was pinching the bridge of his nose, and out of all that his comment was, "Do I even want to know about the snake trying to get to Brazil?"

"My cousin and his minion were hounding me at the zoo in the reptile house, I had been talking to the snake a few minutes before, and when I saw them bothering him and after they pushed me away I got mad and accidently vanished the glass. I bet the zoo keepers caught him, but I have always hoped a little anyways that he did make it Brazil and see what is was like there." Harry explained, despite knowing it was a rhetorical question.

"Potter you are in for some harsh realizations, while all you have said seems like a lot, and I will admit to a sixteen-year-old boy that is a lot to give up, that is only scratching the surface. What you have said happens to everyone when they grow up and don't have the safety of school and classes to hide behind, the real world is harsh and cruel, but war is even harsher and far crueler, you won't just grow up you will be pushed to your absolute limit. Boundaries you didn't even know you have will be tested and crossed, all with your consent, because as much as it hurts it will be your own side doing that to you. If we don't push you to your max, you are guaranteed to be by the enemy and you won't know how to handle yourself. That is a very good way to end up dead." Potter was making baby steps when he needed to make leaps. The boy could learn, but Snape doubted it would be enough, though Auror training would go a long towards disillusioning the boy.

"So you are saying I will be selling my soul, it will hurt like Hell, age me, half-kill me, but I should do it anyway?" Harry just wanted him to confirm it.

"That is exactly what I'm saying. You cannot afford to be a child any more, even the Headmaster started seeing that. If he hadn't, then do you really think he would have shown you what he did of the Dark Lord? Or taken you to Order headquarters at all? If he had his way you would have grown up smothered in cotton wool and stored away in a Gringotts vault till Voldemort was nothing more than dust in the wind." Snape pointed out.

Harry snorted, "Instead I got a cupboard under the stairs with spiders as friends, and now I have to learn how to fight a war half-blind. I can almost understand why he did it, but I wish he hadn't. A wise man recently told me ignorance is never the answer, he is right."

"Cupboard?" Snape hadn't missed that.

"From the time they found me on their doorstep until my first Hogwarts letter I slept in the broom cupboard under the stairs. It wasn't fun, but it could have been worse. They never beat me or anything like that." Harry replied with a shrug omitting those few instances of Aunt Petunia swinging soapy skillets at his head if he bugged her while she was washing them, but she hadn't actually landed any of the blows.

"When I saw those memories, I thought that might have been an occasional punishment, not your only sleeping arrangement," Snape muttered, "It wasn't right of them, but if you made it through that all right, you are at least a little more prepared than I thought. This will still be the hardest thing you have ever done though." He warned.

"Oh I am fully aware of that," Harry spoke drily, "I had no illusions this would be easy, and now I know it will be harder than I had anticipated, but I will make through. I have to."

"You don't have much of a choice," Snape agreed. "Now don't you have an Auror to inform of your decision?" He said as a way of kicking Harry out of his office.

Harry didn't miss the dismissal, and quickly vacated the office without bothering to say goodbye. It was enough Snape talked to him at all. Now he needed to talk to Kingsley before reporting back to his friends. He had made his choice, there was no point waiting around now that he knew what he was going to do.

Kingsley was grading a stack of Seventh year essays when Harry knocked on his office door, the porthole charm allowing him to see who was on the other side without that person knowing he could. He took time to look over Harry while walking over to let him in. The boy still looked bad, too skinny, and he hadn't gotten enough sleep, but there was confidence in his expression, and determination in his eye; going off this Kingsley figured he had made a decision.

Opening the door with a small smile, "Please come in Harry," He invited, "Have you made your decision?" He inquired once the young man had entered.

"Yes," To his credit, he spoke strongly, without fear or doubt, that was a good sign.

"What have you decided?" Kingsley took a neutral tone, not sure whether the Golden boy would decide to help, or run. His determination could be fueled by either option.

Harry shored up his stance, trying to project the confidence he was feeling, "I will help, but after some good advice, I do have a few stipulations to add to the deal."

"What are the stipulations? The Ministry can only concede so much. I'm sorry but if you are trying to bring your friends in on this, or attempting to stay at Hogwarts and still receive training, it just won't be possible." Kingsley apologized, figuring that's what he would want if faced with a choice like this at his age.

Harry nodded in understanding, "I knew that wasn't going to be an option, Hermione and Ron would jump at a chance like this I'm sure but I know the Ministry is breaking a lot of rules and regulations just offering this deal to me and it would be too much to do it for them too. No, this is more personal. I don't like my fame; it hasn't brought me anything but grief. I am willing to let the Minister use my name to back his policies, but I have to approve the articles that use it. If I am going to let you use my name in print, I want it to be because I actually do support the policies, and not because the Minister feels it would be a great effect to have me on his side. I don't think that is too much to ask."

A swell of pride blossomed as Kingsley listened to the well thought out objection, Harry was smart, that would go a long way towards helping him make it through the trials to come. "I think that is a reasonable request, and between you and me I believe Scrimgeour intended to do that anyway. Rufus is not like Fudge, he won't hide behind you, and expect you to fight his battles. He is very hands on, and involved in the war effort. He comes to the Auror barracks often, and even participates in some of our drills to prove he does know what he is talking about when he commands us. He is a very good Minister, and a decent man besides that. I think you made the right choice."

"I wasn't sure at first, but like I said, I got some good advice. This is the right thing to do. It will be hard and painful, but hopefully worth it. At least I am being given a chance to fight for myself, others have not been so lucky." Harry agreed, fighting off a blush of gratitude at hearing the approval from Kingsley. Hey he was tired, and worn down, and for once an adult was looking at him with pride for a decision he had made, rather than derision or condescension.

Kingsley led the obviously tired student to one of the chairs in front of his desk, tactfully ignoring the quiet sigh of relief as he sunk into the padded seat, before reclaiming his spot in front of the pile of essays. "Was that the only concern you had about this deal? It will be a lot. Your life is going to change completely. What about your family? Will they have a problem with you leaving school? Most families would prefer their children get a true education rather than the thrown together tutoring you are liable to get. It will get you by, but it won't be to Hogwarts caliber, at least not likely unless you do quite a bit of independent study." Harry really hadn't gotten a whole lot of choice, it was more a fight now, or fight later without training kind of situation. Kingsley just wanted to make sure he was as prepared as he could be.

"I doubt my family would care about school at all. In fact, I think they are going to be thrilled if I understand the deal right, I might not have to go back to them again; I will be too busy training. It gets me out of their hair two years sooner than I would be gone otherwise. They won't see a downside. Also of course I have more questions, but it is about the specifics, I don't have any more demands. At least not until I get there and things start happening. I may object to a few things if I don't like them as they come up, but I will do my best to only complain if I absolutely can't take it. The Ministry needs me to be strong, not a little boy throwing a tantrum." Harry shuddered a bit at the end, remembering Dudley's fake crying and other attention gathering antics, he would rather have Cruciatus cast at him than imitate his pig of a cousin.

"I don't know much about your life with the muggles, Dumbledore kept information regarding that extremely private in order to protect you. It sounds like they weren't very good people though. I can clear one thing up for you right now, no, you won't have to go back. Aurors in training are granted leave for holidays and short breaks, but you are not required to leave the barracks, much like Hogwarts." Kingsley correctly read the mutual loathing in the boy's voice. He wasn't exactly choked up about not seeing the Dursleys again if he didn't want to.

The shudder that passed through Harry this time was visible, "It was no picnic growing up with them, that's for sure. They kept me alive, that is about the only good thing I can say about them. They didn't beat me, but I'm pretty sure what happened was at least neglect. I'm not sure it is legal to keep a child in the cupboard under the stairs, it's at least unethical, especially since there were four bedrooms, and only three other people in the house."

"If you pressed charges, you would have a case." Kingsley spoke carefully, working hard to restrain his anger. Hurting a child was wrong, even if it wasn't physical abuse, it was still wrong.

Harry shook his head sharply, "No, I won't do that. Yes, they weren't the best toward me, but it could have been far worse, and it wasn't like they chose to take me in and then proceeded to hurt me. Dumbledore left me on their doorstep in the middle of the night, in early November, with nothing but a blanket and a note. I doubt I was left completely unattended until Petunia came out to put the milk bottles out, but still, would you just leave an infant on a doorstep? Wouldn't you at least ring the bell or knock?"

"Dumbledore did that?" Kingsley knew Harry wasn't lying, he could hear the truth in his tone of voice, but it was hard to wrap his mind around it.

"Yes," Harry pressed, "When Hagrid brought me back from my first trip to Diagon Alley, I cornered Aunt Petunia alone in the kitchen, and asked her for the truth. She told me how I was found, and Dumbledore admitted later, without knowing I had talked to my Aunt, he was the one who placed me there. A story backed up by Hagrid."

The Auror stayed silent for a few minutes, letting himself absorb the information, how could Dumbledore have done something like that? He agreed with Harry, the boy was probably watched from the moment he was set down until he was brought safely into the house, but there still should have been some attempt to personally explain the situation. Imagine finding your sister was dead, and you now had custody of your nephew who was in danger of being tracked down by Death Eaters while you had a young son of your own to look after. Now imagine finding that all out from a letter? "So that's why you and Dumbledore had such a conflicted relationship." He said once he had most everything worked into place.

"Dumbledore made a lot of mistakes with me, I think he suffered from the same problem that my fame did to me. Everyone saw the image and not the human. He was fully capable of making mistakes, and unfortunately a man with his power and position, well, his mistakes have a way of having far worse consequences than wearing the wrong tie to work that day. The problem that comes from that is, because the image is all anyone saw, his mistakes weren't caught as they might have been otherwise. They were allowed to grow, until a small misstep feels like a betrayal." Harry analyzed, taking off his glasses, and rubbing the bridge of his nose between his eyes. He had a monster headache from dealing with all this on too little sleep. "I had my problems with him, but I still listened when he had something to say. Mistakes were made, but 150 years of experience has to count for something."

Kingsley looked at Harry in a new light after hearing that, this wasn't a boy, he had already been thinking of Harry as more than a child because of just the escapades he knew about. This was different, he hadn't realized the Gryffindor could see the situation so clearly, when just about anyone else would have gotten angry or bitter, maybe even both, this young man had stood by the man who caused him pain. All because he thought it was the right thing to do. "Harry, I can see why you were singled out for this. You see things differently than others would, it's a gift that will serve you well in the Auror barracks. I think you could win, where all others have failed."

"I'm nothing special, Hermione is way smarter than me," Harry brushed off the comments, not believing a word of it.

"She is a very smart witch, I have seen her work, and yours. She had all the facts correct, everything she needed to make a very well thought out and presented essay. Everything she wrote could be checked and verified by a book in the library, a solid O paper should it have been turned in at OWLs. Your paper didn't have as many references, and I could tell you were raised in the muggle world and aren't quite comfortable using a quill, but you had examples and theories that couldn't be found in books or in Hermione's paper. To me your paper would also receive an O, because not all knowledge is from books. You could see ways that spell could be used, without looking it up, and even if she thought some of the same things she didn't trust her own instincts to be just as right as the books. Your intelligence is practical, and adaptable, it's probably how you managed to get through all those scraps you've landed in. The fact you could see the situation with Dumbledore and your family so clearly, and not get so angry with them you forsake any help they might give, you in essence forgive them. That takes a lot of heart Harry, which is a very good thing to have." He spoke so freely, and sure of himself, Harry couldn't help but believe him.

"You really think that way?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, Harry, really think about it. You are part of a prophecy, and yes I know it Dumbledore left it to the three of us running the Order, that states you are the only one who can come up against the Dark Lord and win. Would that have happened if there wasn't something about you that was different? The power he knows not could mean a lot of things, from magic to gunpowder, but I think it just means a large heart and the ability to see when to fight and when to forgive." Kingsley was now sure of that, he wasn't positive when he first started watching him, but now he saw beneath the grief and exhaustion eating away at him, and saw the powerful wizard he was well on his way to becoming.

Harry bowed his head slightly, not able to meet the eyes drilling into him, "I never thought of it that way."

"I think everyone is so worried about those few line of fortune, that they over think the answers. Most prophecies are riddles yes. Meant to be worked out as the information is needed usually. The pieces won't fall into place until they are meant to, and before that it won't matter how long you slam your head against the wall, the answers won't come." He hadn't been a very strong believer in Divination while in school, he did believe there were true seers gifted with the Sight, but the future was a fickle thing and the fates would not reveal their secrets until they were ready. He was sure of that.

"I never wanted any of this, I hope you know that, I want my parents alive. I would rather have that then all the fame and fortune." Harry spoke so softly Kingsley struggled to hear, but it made his heart clench. 

"We all wish this war had never come. We will fight though, and keep their memories alive. Live for them, fight so there will be a tomorrow worth getting to." He advised just as softly.

"I can only do my best, I hope it is enough," Harry shrugged then, knowing getting too worked up wouldn't solve anything.

Kingsley nodded, "That's all anyone can do, we will just have to wait and see how it turns out."


End file.
